


running up that hill.

by memedic



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: The Vitale au, Vergil is mentioned a few times, aka nero's other parent, some angst and some fluff, vitale is a trans man, vitale is who v's appearance is based on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-12 23:48:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21484855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memedic/pseuds/memedic
Summary: Vitale, a citizen of Fortuna, had his life permanently changed after encountering the Son of Sparda, Vergil.Where fate normally foresaw his death at the hands of demons... In this universe, he survived and goes on to raise a quarter-devil son to the best of his abilities.-aka a bunch of little fics about the vitale au
Relationships: Vitale & Nero, Vitale/Vergil
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the au no one asked for but the one i keep making content for, in which:
> 
> \- vitale is nero's other father  
\- vitale is essentially what v's appearance is based on, i.e. "vergil considers vitale the most human part of him"  
\- vitale SURVIVED being attacked by demons and lives to raise nero into his adulthood

This wasn’t the first time Nero had acted out at school, but it was the first time he’d ever gotten into an actual fight with other kids.

Vitale received a call right in the middle of work, and when he’d heard the news he could only wonder if Nero was okay… Even knowing his son was special and was probably more than alright, there would be no fighting the feeling of worry that coursed through him.

He wasted no time in going to retrieve his son from school, Nero only pouting and not saying a word to his father the entire walk home. He was quick to sit his son down and look over at his injuries. A few bruises still remained, but they were healing right before his eyes, and he lets out a quiet sigh of relief…

Kneeling before his son, he looks him straight in the eye, Nero maintaining unwavering eye contact.

“Your teacher told me you threw the first punch. Is that true, Nero?” He asks, and his son’s hands ball into fists.

“...Yeah.” He admits quietly, finally looking away. “He deserved it though.”

Vitale sighs. “No one deserves to get hit, Nero. Why would you-”

“You didn’t hear what he was saying about you, dad!” Nero interrupts, his temper worked up. With a soft ‘hey’ and taking one of his son’s hands in his one, the boy quiets again.

Vitale almost doesn’t want to ask, but he can’t take steps to prevent this from happening again unless he soothes the other’s aggravation. “What did they say?” He asks, and Vitale can see the beginning of tears forming in Nero’s eyes.

“...I don’t wanna say it.” He mumbles, rubbing away at one of his eyes.

“It’s alright. I won’t be upset.” Vitale soothes him, and Nero lets out a soft breath before he forces the words out:

“He said that… His dad said that you were a prostitute, and- and you only had me ‘cause you were too poor to-”

Vitale’s already heard enough, and he shushes his son before he can continue the sentence. He had expected this kind of rumor to go around, it already had during his pregnancy, but to spread all the way to his school and for Nero to have to hear it- It was despicable.

“You know that’s not true, don’t you?” He replies, softly brushing tears that had begun spilling down his cheeks. “I had you because I wanted to, Nero. And your father… He meant much more to me than anyone will ever know.”

“I know, dad.” Nero sniffles. “That’s why when he started talking about you, I… I had to do _ something _.”

“Listen to me, Nero…” He starts, resting both his hands on his son’s shoulders. “I don’t care what anyone says about me. They can call me whatever they’d like, you and I know the truth, don’t we? That’s more than enough. Those people just want someone to pick on so they can feel better about themselves. Maybe punching them might feel good- but it isn’t the right thing to do at the end of the day.”

“What do I do, then? I just let them call you those awful things?” His son is still defensive, Vitale can understand it, really. He’d been in rooms with people who were unafraid to spread that same gossip, and the fact that he himself resisted the urge to throw punches was only due to the fact that he would’ve been ejected from Fortuna in a heartbeat. Even now, their citizenship was a bit unstable. Nero couldn’t continue this way.

“You tell a teacher, or you just ignore them and go find Kyrie. She makes you feel calm, doesn’t she?” He brings up one of his friends, and Nero nods quietly.

“It may not feel fair, but in the end, if you resort to violence, you’re going to get in trouble and give the other person the means to defend themselves. You can’t go picking fights again, okay?” Vitale watches his son’s reaction, and after a few moments of silence his son finally gives in with another nod, and he pulls the boy into a tight hug, which he reciprocates.

“...If dad was here, they wouldn’t say those things, right?” Nero asks quietly, and Vitale can’t help but feel a pit in his stomach.

“I think… They’d say much worse things if he was here.” He answers. “That’s just how some people are. Even if we don’t like them…” 

“We have to live with them.” Nero finishes the sentence for him, and Vitale pulls away from the hug to ruffle up his hair, which the boy protests. Standing up, he goes to prepare his son some lunch, and not even ten minutes later a teary-eyed Kyrie and a rightly upset Credo was at their door, worried about their dear friend.

Lunch for three, then… Four, including himself.

It was hard not to think about what he’d just heard as he starts putting together little sandwiches. The last thing he wanted was to involve Nero in all the drama that had surrounded him since he’d met Vergil… But he should’ve known there would be no avoiding it. The people of Fortuna always acted so gracious and above everyone else, the second someone strays from what they’d consider normal… Kyrie’s family was about the only decent one left.

Vitale had been closer to Sparda than any of them had been, in a way. Nero, the very boy they were all so judgemental of, had the blood of the dark knight they worshipped coursing through his veins. None of them knew, though, and it was best that no one ever know… Not even Nero himself, if he could help it.

He could already see the signs that Nero was a bit more than normal for a boy his age: Any injuries he sustained healed in a matter of minutes, and that did lead to him being a bit reckless… Which was a motivator for this fight he’d gotten into, most likely. Even never having seen his father, Nero carried Vergil’s spirit in certain ways.

His son had certainly taken more from the half-devil’s appearance than he had Vitale’s own. If Vergil had still been here… If he’d have given up his pursuits to remain with him like he’d thought the son of Sparda would... They probably wouldn’t even still be in Fortuna. Vergil had always voiced detest at how the citizens had treated him when he gave stories, he would’ve used the Yamato to take them all somewhere far away… Like he used to with Vitale all the time.

They wouldn’t come back, though. They’d find a nice, peaceful town, and they’d settle down there… Too idealistic, maybe, but he could always dream. With a melancholy smile he can’t quite keep down, he sets down the plates of food for the children, Kyrie and Credo both thanking him in earnest.

He takes a seat next to Nero, who is in the middle of pretending that he’s still hurt so Kyrie will continue to dote over him. It was cute, honestly. His son wasn’t a terribly convincing actor, but for an eleven-year-old, it would be enough.

“Do you think Nero needs to lay down?” Kyrie asks him, glancing nervously back to Nero, who immediately snaps out of his act when he notices his father staring.

“No, no- I’m feeling better! Honest!” Nero sputters, and he can’t withhold the small chuckle that rises in his throat. He did adore his little boy more than anything in the world.

“We’re here to ask if Nero could come over… If you don’t mind.” Credo grabs his attention, ever polite and oddly mature for his age. He was older than Kyrie by a few years, and Vitale remembers when he was just a toddler.

“Hm… I dunno. Nero is in a bit of trouble at the moment…” Vitale trails off, watching his son’s reaction. “...Ah, why not. Only for an hour though, alright?” He finally gives, and the happiness that lights up Nero’s face is enough to bring him out of the rather sullen mood he’d been fighting since this debacle began.

The kids finish their plates and get ready to leave, and as Vitale dumps the plates into the sink, he recognizes the feeling of his son wrapping his arms around him and hugging him again. He reaches down his hand and ruffles Nero's hair up.

“Be safe, okay?” He says softly, and Nero nods before running out the door to re-join Kyrie and Credo, shutting the door behind him.

Vitale lets out a long sigh he’d been withholding, his posture releasing into a slouch. He was going to call Nero’s school about this… and hopefully, there’d be something done about it.

He shuts his eyes for a few moments, picturing that ideal world where they weren't here. Imagining a real home, not a hovel that was only made for one person. Fields of flowers and an always blue sky… and Vergil, holding their son in his arms, smiling with a warmth that he struggled to imagine.

Then he opens his eyes, back in the cold unkempt environment of his home, and prepares himself for the days to come. 

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

A lot had happened in the span of two days, most of which Vitale spent watching from the windows of his home, worrying himself to death over Nero as demons filled the streets. He was lucky Vergil had told him how to keep them away from certain spaces, with certain plants and artifacts that were a labor to acquire, but now well worth the effort.

None even wanted to get close to his front door, much less any part of his house… The same couldn’t be said for adjacent homes, though. The Order eventually intervened, and even when they were sorely outnumbered they managed to clear a great number of demons from the streets. Still, when Vitale didn’t see Nero among them, it only stressed him out more.

This would go from frightening, to strange, to downright  _ weird _ . Watching a giant statue of Sparda, one that had been under construction since the days of Vitale’s youth, fly above the city, Sanctus riding atop it and laughing like a madman, was one of the more interesting aspects of that day… And watching it get attacked from a distance, almost efficiently destroyed, made him unsure if he should be relaxed or not.

Nero does come home, though, and after wrapping him up in a hug and squeezing him as tightly as he could, his son finally explains what he’d been up to. A lot of revelations about the Order turning their most faithful members into “angels”... The loss of Credo, which weighed heavily upon him… and Dante.

Vitale first saw him when he’d crashed in on a cathedral and blatantly shot His Holiness at point-blank. He felt frozen, not because a man had been murdered, but because he saw the man in red’s eyes and immediately recognized how painfully familiar they were: It took Credo grabbing him and hurrying him out to break away from the trance…

He wouldn’t be so delusional as to assume it was Vergil, the intruder’s movements were too brash and loud- And Vergil wouldn’t wear red. The similarities gave him pause, though… Vergil had never told him about his family, save for his father.

Nero produced the Yamato from his devil bringer, and Vitale couldn’t withhold a short intake of breath upon seeing the katana again… How many years has it been? Seeing the blade again brought back a slew of old memories that were enough to give him pause.

“Are… you okay?” Nero asks, glancing down at the sword in his hand and then back to his father.

“Oh… Yes, I was just a little frightened is all. All of that really was in your hand, Nero?” He lies, relying on a concern that was genuine to make it more convincing.

“There’s a lot in my hand now, actually… It’s kinda weird.” His son responds, silently watching Vitale rest a hand on the weapon. “You… wanna hold it? I gotta be careful with it, apparently it belonged to Dante’s brother.”

Ah. So that’s what it was. If Dante was to be believed… Then that meant that Nero had been unknowingly speaking to his Uncle. There’s so many things Vitale wants to say that he has to withhold, eyes boring into the katana as so many memories associated with it go through his mind.

“Yes, I… Can I hold it? It’s rather impressive.” Vitale responds with a soft laugh at his own joke. The exact words he’d spoken to Vergil the first time he’d gotten a proper look at the weapon.

“Just… don’t drop it, okay?” His son is clearly worried about how his father’s reacting to this whole situation, gently releasing the weapon into his grip, which he holds upright, looking over the details.

The ribbon he’d given to Vergil was still there, after all this time. It was certainly more tattered than he remembered, but it still held fast to the scabbard. There’s still a familiar warmth to it, perhaps the demonic energy that coursed through it kept it that way. Vitale remembers all the places Vergil would take him with the weapon’s power, places that were so far as another country to so close as the very beaches of the island Fortuna rested in.

Vergil would never be without this sword by his side, even when he let Vitale look at it, he never truly let go of it… Which meant that there could be no denying what Vergil’s fate was, after all this time hoping that he was still out there.

If the Yamato was here, and Vergil was not... Then Vitale’s wait had finally come to an end.

“Woah- Dad?!” Nero panics a bit as Vitale sinks to the ground, hugging the weapon while tears spilled freely from him and soft sobs wracked his whole body. He thought he’d gotten over these feelings from so long ago, but to have a piece of Vergil with him again, proof that he was truly no longer with them… It was too much to be able to hold back.

He feels Nero’s hands on his shoulders, kneeling down in front of him and asking him what was wrong, and Vitale knows he has to say something. Would now be right to tell him about Vergil truthfully? He’d never even spoken his name before.

“I… I was so worried you wouldn’t come back.” He gasps between sobs, something that sounded directed at Nero but was aimed at a person who wasn’t there and would never  _ be  _ there. “I was waiting for what feels like ages...”

Nero is quick to pull Vitale into a hug as he sobs, releasing his grip on the Yamato and tugging his son closer so he can sob into his shoulder. “I’m right here, dad. It’s alright.” Nero soothes, and Vitale continues to cry everything he’s got until he’s exhausted by it. 

He had to find the will to let go of hope that Vergil would return in this moment, his knuckles whitening as he clutched his son’s jacket with all the strength he could muster. He aches thinking of everything that can’t be: He’d never get to introduce Nero to him, never get to take out his anger and sorrow that he’d been left behind to raise a son on his own, never get to have him make amends by staying with them… Nero would never have a proper father figure, Vitale had well and truly failed in trying to fulfill that role.

Vitale finds the will to let go, if only for his son’s sake. If he cried for much longer Nero might get the hunch that it’s more than his safety that he’s crying over… and he’s not ready to tell the truth to his son yet. In this moment, he’s not sure he’ll ever be… and what a horrible thing it would be, to tell Nero that his other father was well and truly dead, and that he’d just missed his uncle.

Slowly, piece-by-piece, he lets the sorrow go.

When the tears finally stop and he pulls back, he winces at the large tear stain he’d left on his son’s jacket. He offers back the Yamato, giving it one more melancholy look before it disappears back into his son’s possession with a burst of light. 

“I should’ve come to check on your or something…” Nero tries, helping Vitale to his feet. “Everything just got… complicated. I’m glad you’re safe.”

With another few deep breaths, Vitale settles down. “It’s alright… How’s Kyrie doing?”

Nero starts to  _ blush  _ at the mere mention of her name, which gives Vitale some amount of joy. “She’s uh… Kyrie and I… We’re gonna move into a place together.”

God, just when he thought he’d gotten through all the tears, he feels more prickling up, which his son takes note of. 

“Aw, dad-”

“You’re really so grown up now, Nero…” He wipes his eyes before the tears can properly form, choking them down. “I’m happy for you.”

Nero sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah… Anyway, I uh… I’m gonna get you a place too, dad. A real one… No offense to this old place, but it’s…” His son trails off, and Vitale just smiles knowingly.

“Barely livable?” He tries, and his son shakes his head.

“No, that’s not- It’s just  _ old _ , you know? You deserve a better place than this.” Nero says, and Vitale pulls him into another hug with a quiet  _ thank you. _

He lets Nero lead him down the wrecked streets of Fortuna, meeting up with a crowd of surviving citizens being attended to by Kyrie and some other remaining Order members. Her eyes light up when she spots Nero, who flushes at making eye contact with her.

The vestiges of misery from having seen the Yamato earlier were fading so quickly he wasn’t even sure it’d happened; Maybe he’d just gotten so used to getting over pain in favor of his son’s happiness.

After this… He’d make a proper grave for Vergil, somewhere. He didn’t exactly know how the son of Sparda had died, but knowing how solitary he had been… There probably wasn’t anywhere that marked his life. He considers the idea of trying to contact Dante, but decides against it, in the end. If Vergil’s brother recognized Nero as his nephew, then perhaps he’d come back to see what other family may remain…

The grave first, though… Then he could finally put years of waiting for him to return to rest. Maybe let out a few more tears in private, if he still had them. Even not knowing how Vergil died, or how he’d truly felt about Vitale, he still felt so strongly that he needed to acknowledge his death in something physical.

Maybe… He’d tell Nero the truth then. It was so apparent that Nero had demonic power, yet he’d never even questioned his father about it… That kind of trust that his son put in him deserved to be repaid, especially now that the Order was no longer a threat to him.

Someday, he’d do it… but watching him blissfully hold hands with Kyrie, he knew now wouldn’t be the time… He’d have to wait for things to settle.

Maybe in a few years.


End file.
